


The Red Thread of Fate

by bitchytimemachine



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-01-05 00:13:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18354623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitchytimemachine/pseuds/bitchytimemachine
Summary: Two people connected by the red thread are destined lovers regardless of time, circumstance or universe. This cord may stretch or tangle but never break. Four Bulmas, Four Vegetas... One Red Thread. One destiny.





	1. They Meet

**Author's Note:**

> So I had some problems with the fourth AU, it felt way too close to Sanguinary, and moving forward I was having just PROBLEMS! So instead of forcing the AU, I made some changes and I hope you like where I'm going with it! I also have almost all of chapter two done, and hope to have that out here in the next few days!! Enjoy this edit!

#  **Chapter 1**

##  **They Meet**

_It is invisible, but attached right there at your ankle. It pulls you towards your destiny. Draws you to them until the fated day you meet._

###  **I**

His feet hit the ground. The Prince surveyed the area. It was desolate, some sort of arid desert and wind swirled dust round the three Saiyans feet. The three seemed to be misfits that fate had mushed together. There was the tiny and domineering Prince Vegeta, who held the universe on his shoulders. The complete opposite of Vegeta, Raditz, who hid his worries behind a mask of being carefree and playful. And finally, Nappa, who stepped in to take the placeholder of father to the two youngsters, it had aged him beyond his years and the Saiyan could feel the ache seep into his bones.

“You were smart to suggest this mud ball as a refuge Raditz.” The Prince said. “You say Kakarot was sent here to purge?” 

The taller Saiyan nodded his head, “Yes my Prince.” 

“All right. Raditz, you search him out. Get him to come to our side, we are going to need all the Saiyans we can get for this battle. Nappa, find shelter. We don’t know what the creatures of this world will be like, and after the battle we have just had, we need time to recuperate before we battle again. I will search out provisions and get an idea of the creatures here.”

The three Saiyans all took off in different directions. Vegeta flew low to the ground, speeding across the barren landscape. He reached out with his ki searching for signs of life. He felt the light pressure of power from life forms and turned. _Probably an animal,_ Vegeta thought. 

He came upon a war zone. Dwellings crumbled to the ground. What had once been towering buildings lay crumbled on the ground. A lone dome sat off the the side with a gaping hole in its roof. Vegeta sensed the life form inside the building and, thinking of his evening meal, moved to kill the animal sequestered there. 

He flew into the hole and found himself in a room with lavender walls. Dirt, clothing, papers and machinery were thrown all over the floor, probably from when the roof collapsed. He moved through the building, taking in the eerie, just left scenes. There were three plates on the table with moldy food. Insects scurried over the food items that were left out and a musky, smell permeated the space. 

Vegeta covered his sensitive nose and turned away. As he was retreating, he noticed a crack in the wall. He reached up and pushed. A door swung open revealing dark stairs leading underground. The clunking of his boots echoed in the still air. 

His eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness as he descended and he looked about the large room that opened at the bottom of the steps. Vegeta could feel the ki signature down here. The room was metal, sterile looking compared to the rest of the building. Tables with glassware, machinery and paperwork were placed all around the space. 

Vegeta moved to one of the tables and picked up a notebook. Flipping through the pages, he noticed diagrams of fantastical technology. Dwellings located within the confines of a small container, radars for finding lost things, flying contraptions, and time manipulators. He scoffed and dropped the book on the table. 

He could hear the animal. It was behind a large door on the southern side of the room. The animal was intelligent, its breathing was elevated. Fear. His blood pumped through his veins the excitement leading up to the kill always gave him a natural high better than any synthetic drug on the market. 

Vegeta gently jiggled the handle of the door and when he met resistance, he jerked it away from the wall. Three loud booms echoed through the space, and three small metal projectiles bounced from his shoulder, chest and forehead. 

Vegeta heard a high pitch screech, “Die you Fucker!” Before three more projectiles were launched at him. In the room a small female was curled up underneath a metal table. She was fumbling with a machine that she pointed towards Vegeta. Her eyes went wide, “You! I know I hit you! Where. Here did the bullets go?”  
Vegeta bent and picked up one of the metal projectiles. “You mean this woman?”

“Oh my God. The… the bullets didn’t do anything to you. You’re… You’re not human are you?”

Vegeta smirked, “No I am not a filthy _human_.”

“You’re not one of them are you?” The woman asked as she slid further away. “Oh My God! Is that a tail!?” She screamed. Her demeanor immediately shifted and she scrambled out from her hiding spot. “You’re just like Goku! I should have known it the second my bullets didn’t hit! Well this piece of shit is officially useless”

She threw her machine to the floor. As she spoke she moved closer to Vegeta. She was examining him. Her hand reached out and landed on Vegeta’s shoulder where the metal projectile hit him. “So, who are you?”

“Who am _I_?! I am Vegeta the Prince of all Saiyans. Who are you pathetic weakling?”

She looked up at him with piercing blue eyes. “I’m Bulma."

###  **II**

Bulma stood with her room mates waiting for a table to open up at the local speakeasy. Classes were slated to start on Monday and the four women had spent the past two days moving in. They were tired, missed each other from their summer apart, and were ready to party.

This was their third year at North University. From the outside the four ladies were nothing alike, but ever since they had taken English 101 together their first semester, Bulma, ChiChi, Eighteen, and Launch had been inseparable. 

Launch pulled on Bulma’s arm, tugging her towards a table that was clearing out near the area staged for the band. “Dammit Bulma, move your ass! We gotta get that table. These guys are super popular!” 

“I don’t see why Launch! Its jazz!” Bulma protested. 

“Hey B, watch it, this is the hottest spot in town. Don’t wanna get kicked out do you?” Eighteen crooned behind them. “I had to pull major strings with the owner to get us in you know.”

They settled into their seats and ordered their first drinks. Bulma of course ordered a martini, ChiChi a bellini, Launch settled in with an old fashioned and Eighteen started with a Monkey Shoulder neat. The four really could be no more different. But they fit together really nicely. ChiChi and Launch had spent the past two days ordering Bulma and Eighteen around to set the common areas of their living space correctly. Eighteen and Bulma goofed off just enough to blow off steam while not incurring the wrath of the two spitfires. 

The four ladies comfortably slipped back into their friendship as if two months hadn’t passed without contact. The jazz group was announced and the thumping of the bass, swing of the drums and the steadiness of the piano set a solid foundation for the smooth melodies played by the trumpet. Bulma was four martinis in when she noticed the conversation had died off and Eighteen had left to flirt with the short bald bartender. 

Feeling the booze she looked toward the jazz group. She realized quickly why a _jazz group_ were so popular. They were all musical stacked upon muscle. Bulma was in love instantly. 

The drummer was enormous. His frame dwarfed the set in front of him. His bald head shone in the spotlights overhead. His face scrunched up in the most vulgar of expressions, and even made the gross fu manchu he wore kinda attractive. 

The bass player was working his way through a solo. His eyes were fucking the entire audience, and he flipped his long mane around his shoulders the way a rock star would. Bulma took a long sip of her martini and could almost imagine him undressing her with the teeth he kept flashing the audience. 

The trumpet player was leaned back against the wall waiting for a bass solo. His ebony hair flew in every direction and he had a goofy grin on his face. He slipped a cookie in his mouth and chomped while bobbing to the bass music. He was goofy, but it was endearing how comfortable he was with himself. 

The pianist sat calmly behind the keys. His finger deftly sweeping over the chords with the precision of a surgeon. He was smaller than the others but his presence overwhelmed the stage, demanding your attention. His brow was pronounces and his lips were pulled in a pout. His hair swept up into a point reaching the sky. 

Yes, Bulma was determined, she was gonna take one of these guys home tonight. Ok maybe she wasn’t drunk enough for baldy, but she definitely had her eyes on… well any of the others. That is how she managed to drink six martinis and enjoy two full sets of jazz music. 

After the sets ended, Bulma looked around. Her friends had abandoned her. That was no matter, Bulma was on the prowl. Baldy was diligently packing up the instruments - and an older woman was with him helping to tear down, so Bulma decided that as a no go. 

Rock star was conspicuously absent. Bulma was sure she would notice that fantastic hair anywhere in the smaller bar. Chi Chi had moved up with the shy trumpet player and was laying on the flirting thick. Dude seemed into I too. While happy for her friend, Bulma couldn’t help to be jealous of her friend for bagging a hottie. 

Then Bulma noticed the pianist sitting at the end of the bar by himself. Six martinis in, Bulma had no shame. She moved over to Eighteen, who was taking shots with the small bartender. “Hey can I get another martini and I wanna buy one for him.” She pointed as she spoke. “

“You sure lady? He’s real crabby.” The bartender said.

“Krillin, she’s my roomie, she won’t take no for an answer, trust me.” Eighteen said through hooded eyes. Holy shit… what had Bulma walked into over here?

Krillin slid two drinks over to Bulma and she plopped down right next to the princely pianist. She handed him the drink. “I bought your next one.” She flashed him a smile. “I’m Bulma."

###  **III**

Bulma pulled the knife from the man’s neck. Blood dripped from the wound and he lay naked staring up at her as the life drained from his eyes. His mouth opened and shut like that of a fish out of water.

Bulma finished out her night. She took her time dismembering the man and dropping pieces into the large river that flowed through town. She needed to be careful, it was unseemly for a woman to be out at night, unless she was one of questionable morals. Sure, Bulma did have questionable morals, but the client certainly would not be pleased with the outcome of their time together. Plus Bulma was sure she didn’t have enough time to enjoy another kill tonight. 

She made it back to her workshop and changed out of the clothes she was wearing, instead donning her usual jumpsuit. Bulma spent several minutes cleaning any blood stains from her skin and when she was sure to be clean she found some machinery she had been working on and smeared a nice bit of grease across her cheek as if she had wiped sweat away with a greasy paw. 

The sun was beginning to crest over the horizon. She grabbed the blueprints she had finished earlier and made her way home. She stopped in her favorite bakery and grabbed a roll to eat. Her feet stomped the familiar pathway to her home. The city was coming alive with the bustle of people on their ways to work. An airship hissed through the air, it’s steam wheezed as the heat hit the cool autumn air. 

Bulma was just about to open her door when her neighbor, Chi Chi opened her own. “Mornin’ Bulma! I see you spent another night at the lab?”

“Cheech! Yeah. I am working on a new invention and have been burning the midnight oil.” Bulma gesticulated towards her face and the blueprints bundled in her arms. 

“Ah well you be careful out there lady. Goku says people have been going missing! You need to watch out, being a single lady and all out at all hours of the night!” Chi Chi looked towards Bulma with her motherly eyes. She was unnerved by her neighbors scrutiny. 

“Cheech, Thanks for helping me on this last case. I don’t think I woulda been able ta crack it without ya.” Chi Chi’s husband Goku bound out of the house. He wore the long coat of the city police force. A shiny emblem was plastered over his heart, signifying his rank as police chief. 

Goku was sweet. The most caring neighbor and friend a girl could ask for. But he was not brilliant and Bulma was sure the only reason he made it to the top of the police force was his wife’s brilliance. It was unfortunate that they lived in a society that still looked down on women who were strong, or smart, or liked to work with their hands. Hell, Bulma herself was only able to do her own work because of the untimely death of her father, who made her the sole beneficiary of his massive invention factory.  
Bulma flashed Goku a smile, “Oh hey B! Late night?”

“Yes Goku, I have been working on a device that lets us transport large quantities of goods in a small area all at once.” Bulma said. 

“Oh Bulma, you sure have your head in the clouds!” Goku looked to his wrist watch, “Im late again! Gotta go.” He gave Chi Chi a big kiss on the cheek and waved to Bulma as he skipped down the road. 

“Well Cheech, Im really tired. Im gonna catch some Z’s before I gotta open the shop. I’ll talk to you later?”

“Yeah, but hey Bulma. A hot guy was here last night looking for Dr. Briefs. I sent him to the shop. Did you run into him?.”

“Cheech. Why would you send a strange man to my shop at night if there are people going missing all over the city?”

“Oh Bulma, he was hot. This could be your chance to finally bag a man you know.”

“I can’t believe this. You of all people should know that there is more to life than a _man_. You should be ashamed of yourself Chi Chi.”

Bulma turned and walked in her house. Bulma hoped that a strange man had not made his way to the shop last night and found the heiress not where her alibi set her. Goku may be a moveable idiot, but Chi Chi was dangerously smart. If anyone could find her secret out, it was Bulma’s nosey neighbor. 

Bulma cleaned herself up and lay down for a nap. 

The sun rose and hit the mirror Bulma had placed to alert her of the time to wake. She brushed her hair out and plopped it in a messy bun high on her head, cleaned her teeth and gathered her stuff to head to the lab. She stopped in the pub to grab a cup of coffee on her way to work. 

The bar keep, a large man named Nappa slid the cup toward Bulma, and placed a pocket watch on the counter in front of Bulma. “You’re the Briefs girl right? You come in here every day to get coffee.” Bulma nodded. “This was my daddies watch. I dropped it the other day and its not working anymore. Ill give you free coffee for a month if you can fix it for me.”  
Bulma grabbed the cup, and the watch, nodded and settled into her afternoon ritual in her lab. For three hours each day, the lab was open to the public, people would come in, peruse the inventions, commission technology, or ask for their trinkets to be fixed. Bulma hated it, and the only reason she kept the hours was in memoriam of her father, who loved the public and reveled in the sense of community. 

Bulma was so engrossed in her task of fixing the pocket watch, the damn thing was ancient, that she didn’t hear the door open. A shadow fell over her work. “Hey buddy we are closed. Come back tomorrow.” Bulma spat.

“Im looking for Dr. Briefs.” A gruff voice said. 

Bulma pulled her goggles from her head. “Well Mister, you’re too late. Dr. Briefs is dead. I’m Bulma.”

###  **IV**

_eggs! Eggs are in chocolate cake! And milk! Oh goody! And wheat! That's nutrition! "What do you want?" "Can I have some chocolate cake?" "Chocolate cake coming up."_

_That was part of Chocolate Cake, a widely known bit from the famed comedian Yamcha Bandit, who was caught in a sting operation with furry Kitty Puar. Mr. Bandit was found with photos of minors engaging in sexual acts on his personal device and is being charged with a littany of sex crimes, including sexual assault of a minor…_

Vegeta smashed the off button on his radio, he didnt give a fuck about the third rate comedian and was tired of listening to the news drone on and on about such bullshit. Vegeta was a serious comedian, his stand up meant something, changed lives, informed people, where as idiot talked about the dentist, and cake as if those things mattered. 

He was brought out of his anger filled tirade by the buzzing of his cell. 

“What do you want Whis?”

“Ohhhh Now Vegeta, is that any way to talk to your agent who just booked a super high profile tour for you?”

“I don’t want a high profile tour Whis, I just want to work the comedy clubs for a while.”

“Too bad Princey, you have lots of bad press from beating the shit outta that kid at your last gig, and clubs are pulling out of contracts left and right. You need this gig, or you wont be able to afford to eat, much less my fees.” 

“That college kid deserved it,”

“Yes, Vegeta I know, but you need this. It’s great press, and you will be touring with some of the biggest names right now. So - pack a bag and meet me out front in twenty, you leave today.”

“Wait, what?” Vegeta was met with the dial tone, and began to stuff clothes, books and other necessities into a duffle.

Twenty stressful minutes later, he stumbled out of his apartment and was met with his tall and lanky manager who was leaned against a black cadillac nibbling at a bowl of fresh cherries. Vegeta threw his bag in the trunk and settled in the back seat. 

Whis prattled on about this and that, stopping every so often to gush about some food item Vegeta would be able to enjoy on tour and how Whis was “just so jealous” of the food in many of the cities on tour. Vegeta tuned the man out, uninterested in his tutelage instead he focused on the passing of the buildings. 

They pulled up to the convention center and Vegeta noticed a doubler decker bus parked alongside a large semi-truck with “Netflix Comedy Greats - The Tour!” plastered on the side of the trailer. Vegeta spun around to face his manager.

“You never told me it was _this_ tour!”

“Was it relevant Vegeta?”

“I’m taking over a spot left by Yamcha Bandit! I am literally filling in for a scar-faced sexual deviant! They don’t want me here, so why should I stay?”

“Now, now Vegeta, They promised their ticket holders ten comedians. Ten of the BEST comedians in the world, and they are determined to deliver!” 

Vegeta huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. Whis placed a hand on his thigh and “ooh”ed, causing Vegeta to shake the mans hand from his leg, “Watch it Whis, you don’t want to be the next Weinstein.”

“Vegeta, I don’t think you quite understand what is going on. As a comedian you do NOT say no to Netflix. They are basically taking over the stand up world. They have set up this whole tour as a promo for their special, which is ten episodes long, one for each of the acts.”

“Wait, you said there were ten of us.”

“Oh yeah Trunks and Goten are on tour - “

“The magicians? You’re telling me that I have to tour with comedy magicians?! What is this? The 1980’s?”

“Shut it Vegeta! They are world renown, and have their own hotel show in Vegas, that sells out nightly. You should aspire to be like them.”

Vegeta huffed and turned his head.

“You’re going out there, you’re going on this tour, and once the special drops you’re going on the world tour. This is career saving Vegeta, and you need it. If you don’t take this opportunity, someone else will. And if that happens, you will never hear from me again.”

Although Vegeta knew Whis was the best agent, all he could muster was, “where’s the downside in that?” He threw the door open and grabbed his bag from the trunk. He stomped toward the bus and decided he would claim his space. 

The bus was large on the inside, definitely better than the cramped vans he was used to touring in. Black leather sofas lined both walls before ending at a small kitchenette and dining area. A tiny bathroom hugged on wall while a slim staircase led to the next level. Behind Vegeta was a large living area with a wrap around couch facing a giant television, game systems were inlaid in the walls - Vegeta would not be spending any time in here. 

The bedding areas were stacked beds laid into the walls like a sleeper car of trains in movies. Finally on the far side of the bus was another smaller seating area lined with comfy chairs. Vegeta eyed the sleeping accommodations, and noticed all but two had items packed onto the beds. Vegeta hefted his duffel to the top bunk with a huff. When he spun around he was met with the biggest blue eyes he had ever seen. 

“Vegeta! Love that I’m gonna have another smart comedian on tour with us!” She winked and started shifting items on the bunk under him around. He stared straight ahead, incredulous shock spread across his face. 

“Oh, my agent told me about you, we watched some of your stand up! The bit you do on trickle down policy is great!” She laughed to herself faintly before shoving her hand forward. Vegeta gripped the handshake and the woman in front of him said, “We’re gonna have a great time on this tour, I know it. I’m Bulma!”


	2. Aftershocks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some pretty big creative blocks after I finished Sanguinary for the Mini Bang, so I apologize for the tardiness of getting a new chapter out everyone!
> 
> Also I was struggling with the fourth AU, and scrapped the whole thing - but added a new shiny one (a fic I have been thinking about for ages and thought would fit nicely here) so if you haven't read the new addition to chapter one, I suggest you go back and check out those shenanigans!
> 
> As always, unbeta'd so I am SURE there are lots of glaring typos, sorry y'all.

#  **Chapter 2**

##  **Aftershocks**

_Meeting your fated isn’t always what it is cracked up to be. Sometimes there is instant attraction, other times there is hate, but there is always fire. Always passion._

####  **I  
_______________________________________________________________________ **

“Wow, you’re a Prince?!” The woman chatted on. She was moving around the room gathering small pieces of metal and putting them carefully into a bag. “Like.. charming?” Her eyes flitted towards Vegeta.

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you are rambling on about.”

“Well. Mr. Prince. Have fun ransacking my house. You won’t find much of use to you, but good luck!” The woman said as she waved him off. She began moving towards the door. 

“Who said you were allowed to leave?” Vegeta snarled as he blocked her path. 

“Oh come off it macho man. You obviously aren’t with them, so I know that we are in this together. Now if you wouldn’t mind it..” She tried to push past Vegeta but he stood his ground. 

“I came here looking for someone” Vegeta began. 

“Well we are all looking for someone or something here now aren’t we?” Bulma cut him off. She moved within a foot of him. 

“I have people I need to take care of, and enemies to vanquish.” Her cold eyes met his. Now she was speaking a language he could understand. “Now, move or I will make you move.”

His lips curled into an evil grin and he squared his shoulder up, blocking as much of the door as possible. 

With a sigh, the woman reached into her bag and pulled out a small flat metal device. It had two prongs jutting out the top. She flipped a switch and a roar of purple fire flowed between the two prongs. 

“Move or I’ll use it.” Her tone was almost bored. 

Vegeta cocked his head to the side, daring her to make her move. 

She was faster than Vegeta thought, and knew where to strike. The flame licked the tip of Vegeta’s tail and a roar raged from his throat as pain surged through his body. He was stuck to the spot, the pain immobilizing, he began to feel weak, tired. Then nothing. She had removed the device, leaving him tired, and in pain. 

His vision grew red. Rage enveloped his entire being, and he grasped the woman, hauling her up. His fingers dug into her arms, and a satisfying crunch of bone rung through the air. 

“What was that toy?” He snarled. 

Her mouth was open in a silent scream. It felt good to cause pain to her. He would repay her tenfold for the pain he endured. 

He hefted the woman over his shoulder, letting her bag fall noisily to the ground. He kicked it out of the way and began his trek back outside. 

The sky had begun to darken and the pitter patter of rain was a soothing sound. Vegeta looked to the sky and let the water fall onto his face before he jumped to take flight. He took off toward the landing zone. He had just cleared the city limits when his senses alerted him to a large power level behind him. 

He turned and came face to face with a large male. He floated a few feet behind Vegeta, turned to the side _He is giving me a smaller target._ His features were young, but worn with care. Bags drooped under his dark eyes. His hair was short, cut tight to his head in most places, although in a few spots it spiked up. 

“Give her to me!” The male shouted.

Vegeta took in the man before him. He wore a gaudy orange outfit which was cinched at the waist with a brown fuzzy ribbon. No, not a ribbon. A _tail_. 

It had to be Raditz’ brother… what was his name? Kakarot. 

“Kakarot! There you are.” Vegeta said.

“kaka… what are you talking about?” The man said. “You need to give her to me!”

“She attacked your prince boy. She’s mine now.” 

Vegeta watched the new Saiyan’s features scrunch into a scowl. 

“She’s my mother!” The Saiyan roared.. “I will not let you take her!”

He squared his shoulders off, and Vegeta felt an immense power begin to pool from the Saiyan. He grunted with exertion, his power surging to the forefront ready to be used. It was then that Vegeta saw he was missing his left arm.

####  **II <  
_______________________________________________________________________ **

Bulma’s eye flitted open, slowly. Her head pounded. She tried to sit up but the motion made her feel as if she was dying. Her eyes rolled to the side to check the time on her alarm clock.

Not her alarm clock. In her field of vision was a wall of olive flesh pulled taut over compact muscles. His skin looked like a button down shirt two sizes too small threatening to burst open over a too tight fit. Her eyes roamed over the muscled back before dipping down to his tight bare ass. 

Bulma didn’t remember what had transpired the previous night, but she knew she needed to get out of here. She tried to move but couldn’t force herself to sit up. 

“Either stop breathing so loudly, or get out of my apartment Woman.” The voice was gruff and unfriendly. 

He sounded like an asshole. But fuck if she wasn’t enjoying being right next to this eye candy. Perhaps she could afford to rest just a little longer. 

She woke with a start several hours later, feeling better but not great. She got up as quick as her hangover would let her and began looking for her clothes. 

She immediately noticed her panties hanging from the ceiling fixture, she wasn’t sure how they got there, but she could deal with the loss if it meant she could escape without waking the beastly muscle man in the bed. 

Frantically she searched the room looking for any scrap of her clothing. But the only thing she could see was that white lace thong dangling just out of reach. She swallowed hard and cracked the bedroom door open enough to see out. 

The space was empty and Bulma tiptoed out. Her eyes roamed through the space. It was big, and modernly decorated. In the living area sat a large deep brown piano on an ebony rug. Placed around the edges of the rug were various instruments. Bulma noticed her dress hung over the lid of the piano. 

_Of course I would play out that Pretty Woman fantasy _Bulma thought as she shimmied into her charcoal dress. The thought of that sinewy muscle man hovering over her while she was propped up on the piano keys excited Bulma. She was sad she couldn’t remember the night, cause Pretty Woman was one of her favorite movies, and that was one of her most played fantasies.__

She noticed her pink heels in front of the couch which was crammed into what Bulma thought was supposed to be the dining area. She grabbed them and made her way to the door. 

“You’re still here?” The voice startled her and she turned to see the man moving towards the kitchen. He ran water in a pot. Making coffee. 

“Yeah, I was trying to scoot out without bothering you. Sorry if I woke you up.”

The man busied himself in the kitchen while his coffee brewed. He poured himself a cup and turned to look at her. “You didn’t wake me.” He purred as he took a long drag of coffee. 

It was sinful. He leaned against the counter with his legs crossed at the ankles sipping coffee slowly from his mug. He wore dark wash jeans and a wine colored tee. He was handsome, and she greatly wished she could remember their time together. 

“So. I really hate to be like this but you gotta go. I have a lesson here in five.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. Well thanks.”

 _Thanks?!_ She steeled herself for that walk of shame and slid the door open and stepped into the hallway. Her hallway. Two doors down from her own door. Mother. Fucker. 

Laughter rang out in the hallway as she shut the door. She turned and ran face first into Chi Chi and Launch. 

“You look like hell B.” Launch laughed. “Musta been a good night.”

“Yeah I guess” Bulma answered. 

“Umm we are gonna go get some late lunch. Wanna wash your face and come with?” ChiChi offered.

Bulma swallowed hard. The thought of food was making her feel like hell. “Nah Ceech, you two go on. Thanks though.”

####  **III  
_______________________________________________________________________ **

She eyed the man suspiciously. He stood, clenching his jaw, visibly distraught by the news that her dad was dead. Yeah, it upset her too.

“What do you mean Dr. Briefs is dead?” The man’s voice was low and dripped with anger or perhaps regret. 

Bulma drew her eyes over his body. He was stout, thick muscles pulled at the seams of his clothes, begging to be released from their prison. His heavy brow cast a shadow over his already dark eyes, and his mouth was pulled into a taught sneer. 

“I mean that my father, philanthropist, genius and creator of steam engines, was killed in his home by some asshole who broke into the shop one night. He bled out right where you are standing.”

Bulma spat the words out, reliving a time in her life where she had lost it all. She lost the ability to feel anything after she found him in the floor then next morning. For years she floated around a shell of her former self, until the night she discovered her new hobby. 

She had stumbled down an alleyway on her way home, it was a shortcut after all, when the man attacked her. He used her body, but as he thrust into her she found the knife she kept strapped to her hip. She thrust the tip into the rapists eye and as the blood washed over her hands she felt. 

Anger.

Panic.

Pain.

Excitement. 

All her feelings rushed over her at that moment, and before she could register the euphoria of feelings, they were gone again. She had lost track of how many men she had killed over the years she chased feelings, but one thing she did know, is the need to feel came more and more frequently. Now looking over this man, seething on the spot where she lost her last tether to humanity, the need poured over her. 

She walked to the windows and pulled the shutters shut, she covered the window on the door and locked it. Bulma turned and walked to the counter. Her eyes locked onto this mans as she jumped up to sit on top. She slid her skirt up showing her knees that parted invitingly. 

“Since he is not here to help you, is there _anything_ I can do for you?”

Her lashes batted and she bit at her bottom lip. A hint of recognition crossed this mans face and he took a tentative step forward before placing a gentle hand on the counter next to her. His hips knocked her knees further apart as he nestled himself in between them. “I really need your father,” he whispered on her lips. 

A sigh escaped her mouth, and Bulma’s heart pitter pattered under her dress. “What if I need you?” She asked against his lips. Her legs snaked around his hips and pulled him flush with her core. With this extra spur his mouth crashed into hers. Something foreign stirred in her gullet as his tongue pressed through her open lips and explored her mouth. 

His hands were on her body gripping at her backside, pulling her closer to him, tracing her jawline, ghosting over her collarbone and breasts. She expertly removed his jacket, letting it crash to the floor, before beginning to pull his shirt from the hem of his pants. 

He lay her back on the counter and kissed down her body, “Vulgar Woman,” he whispered over her as he lifted her skirt and saw none of the proper undergarments a woman should wear. Bulma laughed because she was definitely not proper and wore none - it made her hobbies easier. 

That strange feeling stirred again in her gut as this stranger parted her lips and placed the most exquisite kiss to her. As he licked and suckled at her womanhood, Bulma began to notice a tightness in her body growing and growing until finally exploding ina wave of colors behind her eyes. Never had she experienced anything such as this and for a moment she was sure she was being bewitched. 

The man kissed back up her body and when they were eye to eye she felt his member nudge at her entrance. His eyes locked onto her and he paused. Was he asking permission? What a strange man, she wrapped her legs around him and placed her mouth to his. 

The familiar stretch of her body sent a shiver over her in anticipation of what was going to come next. With one hand she played with his hair as she kissed him, the other hand reached for, and grasped her knife. She raised it to his back.

As he moved within her, that tightness began to mount again. “Oh Bulma,” the man moaned and her eyes shot open. Something more foreign than the tightness of a building climax shot through her body. What was this? Pride? Happiness? Confusion? She was not sure, only that here with this man she was feeling again.

####  **IV  
_______________________________________________________________________ **

She was waaay too goddamn happy. Unnaturally so. Was she on drugs? Only explanation for it. After she shook his hand, she had pulled Vegeta along the corridor of the bus talking a mile a minute about this person or that one, and how he would just _Love_ everyone here. What an idiot. She said she watched some of his standup, surely she would have understood that he hated everyone and everything.

She first stopped and introduced Vegeta to a small black haired woman, who was a road manager and assistant to Trunks and Goten. The two magicians were with her giving instructions. The woman nodded to Vegeta and used the opportunity to walk away from the chatty boys, who instantly bombarded the grumpy comedian with questions. 

Ignoring their queries Vegeta looked to the darker haired of the two, “so you do speak shrimp?”

“Oh yeah, I am only silent on stage and in public!” 

“Well it’s public, so shut up,” Vegeta sneered at the messy haired boy, shot an equally angry look at the boy with the purple hair and walked away. 

“Hey now Veggie, that wasn’t very nice!” He heard Bulma say as she pulled on his arm. 

“Who said I was ni- Wait… what. did. you. call. Me?”

“Oh look! here ‘s The Amazing Hercule and Bu!” She pulled him towards an older man with a huge curly afro and a thin black mustache. Standing beside him was a rotund man with rosacea, causing his skin to appear reddish. 

“Mr. Satan, it was the BEST chocolate cake ever! And they just left it in my dressing room, I couldn’t believe it!” The pink man was saying. 

Vegeta stared at him, if his pink face and high pitched voice wasn’t loud enough, the man was dressed in long board shorts and a yellow and red hawaiian shirt. 

“Hey guys, this is Vegeta! He’s gonna fill in our hole!” Bulma flashed a big smile towards them all, and waited. All the men just looked at each other, and Vegeta turned and left. 

“You shouldn’t just eat things left in your dressing room Bu,” He heard the old man saying as they walked away. 

“Don’t bother with those two perverts,” Bulma whispered as they passed by a skinny old man with large red glasses and a thick white fu manchu who was sitting with a green looking man with a humpback. “They drive the truck, and trust me, Roshi and Turtle belong there together.”

It was then that Vegeta realized where they were going. There was a group of people standing together near the back of the bus. A short bald man with head tattoos and a taller man with messy black hair stood talking to two angry looking women, a tall blonde and a shorter black haired woman. 

Vegeta wasn’t sure why but he felt an instant kinship with the angry women. Shorty and idiot could piss off. 

“Vegeta! This is Goku, Krillin, 18 and Chi Chi,” Bulma introduced each as she pointed towards them. “Guys, this is Vegeta, he is another topical comedian, just like me, but he doesn’t have his own HBO series.” 

Vegeta opened his mouth to say something back, but stopped when he noticed shorty looking at him with wide eyes. “What?” he spat. 

“So Bulma, is this the guy who’s filling in for Yamcha while he deals with his lawsuits?” the taller clown said happily. 

“What?! No, My agent called me this morning… Mother Fucker!” Vegeta was gonna kill Whis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me a comment to let me know what you think about the fic! I love hearing from you!
> 
> Also if you didn't catch on, each of the comedians are based on real life comedians who I like the stand up on, can you guess who any of them are?!


	3. Realizations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd as usual, enjoy!

#  **Chapter 3**

##  **Realizations**

_Sometimes we are not sure about our fated. But always the string pulls us together._

####  **I  
_______________________________________________________________________ **

Vegeta could feel the woman pushing up on his shoulder.

“Gohan!” She cried.  
“Shut up woman!” Vegeta hissed. 

“No! Gohan! Go back and take care of the others!”

“Bulma, no! I’m not losing another mother!” Gohan’s voice raised in pitch and Vegeta could feel a power emanating from him in waves. Vegeta’s jaw went slack when this man began to flicker golden.

“You have to trust me! I’ll be fine. Now go back to the others, they need you!” 

Anger and regret flooded the mans face and before he turned to fly away he said, “If you hurt her, I’ll kill you.”

“Tch”

Finding Raditz ki signature, Vegeta made his way to the shelter his comrade had found. It was an old wooden structure nestled in a forest-like area. A large cliff side stood behind and to the east of the structure, _Good tactical thinking, we only have to watch the front and west sides._

Vegeta walked into the structure and dropped the woman on the floor. “Stay,” he demanded as he looked through the building. It was falling apart, but had everything the men needed, there was a large enough common room with what looked like a rudimentary kitchen attached, and three doors, each one leading to private quarters. Vegeta walked outside and around the backside of the building, exploring a root cellar with preserved foods in jars and fibrous vegetables stored within. There was also a water spigot, and water flowed generously from it when pumped. A tiny shed stood far from the house and to Vegeta’s chagrin he noted that the only facilities in this structure were primitive at best. 

The smell of a kill wafted wafted through the air, and Vegeta wandered back to the main room of the house where Nappa was charring a lizard-like animal over a fire in the kitchen area. The woman sat on a large dilapidated couch. 

“I told you not to move woman.”

“And be trampled by Andre the Giant here? Never!” The woman looked away, but it appeared she had more to say. 

“Speak woman”

“I uhhh I noticed your tail, and it… it reminds me of a friend of mine, and I was just wondering if you were like him.”

“Ah that must be Kakarot!”

“No his name was Goku. He was really strong, and had a tail”

“Did he grow into the Great Ape?”

“What?”

“In the mood, did he become the Great Ape?”

“Well yeah, he would turn into a monster when it was a full moon, so we cut his tail off.”

“You what?!” Vegeta was appalled and disgusted, “You mutilated Kakarot because of his Oozaru?!”

“He would attack people, and we couldn’t get through to him to get him to stop!”

“That’s what makes the Oozaru special you idiotic woman!”

“Not even that monstrous transformation could help us anyway. I was hoping if you were like him, you could help us.”

Raditz walked in shaking his head. He walked over to Nappa and poked at the flesh of the creature smoking. 

“Tch. Help you? Why would we ever help you? We are here for one thing and one thing only, Kakarot. He is coming back with us.”

“Well you are too late. Hes dead.”

All three Saiyans stopped moving and stared at the woman. 

“What did you say?”

“Goku is dead. Been dead for years.”

Vegeta could feel the room begin to spin. This was another instance that a lead for a rogue Saiyan was false. Another failure for him, not only did he fail to keep his people safe, but he has failed to gain more support for his upcoming battle. And now he was stuck here on this mudball with no ideas for new places to go. Ultimately, this was the best place for them to be, far away from Frieza’s reign, on an inconsequential mudball with no real resources. 

“You met his son today,”

“I’m an uncle? Aw man I would be the best unc-” Raditz began, but Vegeta’s glare shut him up. 

“That cripple is Saiyan? He called you mother.” Vegeta tilted his head, as if the question was obvious. Can Saiyans reproduce with these women? It would take a lot longer than the three had, but maybe they could create their own army with the mares of this world. 

“Me? No… noooooo Im not mom material. But I took care of him for years. ChiChi died when the androids came, Goku died protecting her. And now that you are here, maybe you can help us fight them.”

“We have our own battle woman. We are not here to save you or help you.” Nappa spat in her direction. 

“If you want Gohan, you will need to help us. Hes the strongest warrior here, but we have others that are strong as well. If you can help us, perhaps we can help you.”

Vegeta looked at the woman, she was a tiny slip of a thing, no real strength, but she had fight in her. That sparked something deep within Vegeta. “I’m listening.”

####  **II  
_______________________________________________________________________ **

Bulma pushed her heel back and elongated her arms pressing the palms of her hands into the mat below her. She had a pretty shitty first day of classes, already had tons of studying and homework ahead of her, and had been looking forward to this yoga night with her friends. It had been their tradition since freshman year and every Monday night they spent downward dogging and childs posing.

Apparently, her roommates needed to get some frustrations out. 18 was so upset she was fuming as she moved into Warrior 1. Chi Chi, who had the grace of a cat, fumbled on Eagle, and Launch just stood there watching everyone attempt the triangle. As they lay meditating, Bulma whispers to ChiChi, “lets go get cookies after this”

“Bulma! We just exercised!” 

“I think we all deserve a treat for being so good at stretching Ceech.”

………..

The four girls walked down the road nibbling their treats. Bulma had a double chocolate chunk cookie and kept feeling the gooey chocolate smear across her face. She knew she probably looked insane, but could care less considering she was about to go home and read textbooks for three hours. “So 18, I saw you flirting with that cute bartender!”

“What’s it to you Briefs?”

“Nothing girl! You just looked really cozy with him… dish, whats going on?”

“Bulma, I saw you leave the speakeasy that night… wanna tell me anything?”

All conversation around the two stopped, and Bulma noticed that Chi Chi and Launch were waiting for Bulma’s answer. Bulma walked a little quicker and when they made it to the apartment went directly to take a shower, locking herself in her room for the night. 

……….

It was ungodly early. She had put off 8 am classes her entire career, because she needed her beauty sleep dammit, and yet, here she was 7:58 in the morning cradling a cup of coffee walking into a freshman fine art class, because Bulma’s lazy ass had put it off for four years. Bulma wanted to invent time travel and go back just to kick her past self in the ass for this grievous mistake. 

And who in their right mind has History of Jazz scheduled so fucking early in the morning? Don’t these people know that this kind of class will put the students to sleep? So why in Gods name have it so early? Bulma decided right there and then, she was going to write a letter to the genius that was in charge of scheduling and demand a change!

She slipped into the tiny wooden auditorium chair closest to the exit. She would not be in this room any longer than she had to. That was when she noticed several heads of wild black hair in the front row. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized that there was her one night stand. Her face grew beet red and she felt like she needed to get out of there, suddenly very awake Bulma began to gather her things, attendance be dammed. 

A booming voice greeted the students, “Good morning students! My name is Dr. Kohl, and welcome to History of Jazz!”

A looming bald man stood in front of the students. The same bald man from the other night. Realization began to seep over Bulma, as she noticed that everyone in the class, besides the three knuckleheads in the front row, was female. She HAD to get out of there. She began to stand to make her escape, when the one person in the whole room Bulma did not want to notice her, stood up and climbed the steps toward the exit. 

Their eyes locked and a shock of excitement pulsed through her. His black eyes bore into her, at first with a scowl on his face, and then as he got closer, and recognition hit him, he smirked at her. His tongue slid in between his lips and he sniffed, all while staring down Bulma. She was frozen to her seat, unable to move. He climbed the stairs and slid out the back door quietly, and Bulma sat there perplexed.

What had just happened? Was he hitting on her again? How was she so fucking awake all of a sudden? And horny? And did he want her to follow him?

“And uh I wanted to introduce youse guys to my GA for this class, but he musta stepped out for a minute. I’m here today, but most days Vegeta will be teaching the class, as I’m sure you all know already.”

……….

Bulma adjusted her shoulder bag as she walked back to her apartment. Her books were heavier than three books should be allowed to be. _I should really have rented the PDFs_ Bulma mused, _I just like the feel of a book in my hand, the way the pages feel as you turn them…. But they are so expensive. … well I guess the PDFs are expensive too, but at least you get to keep a physical copy… but who would want a physical copy of The History of Jazz by Ted Gioia just lying around?_

She was brought out of her reverie by a whistle. Panic welled in her body, there weren’t many people on the street and if a guy decided to get handsy, Bulma wasn’t sure she could fight him off, well maybe with Ted’s enormous and useless book. Just as she was deciding whether to begin walking faster or duck into a nearby building, she heard a thud and a vaguely familiar voice grind out, “Stop being a fucking duchebag.”

Bulma chanced a glance behind her and noticed Rock Star doubled over and her hookup walking a few paces behind her. _Vegeta, his name is Vegeta, and he’s going to be your professor this semester, probably should stop calling him my hookup_

They all walked in silence the rest of the way to Bulma’s apartment. Knowing Vegeta was there was both nerve wracking and somewhat comforting. Bulma felt that Vegeta wouldn’t let anything happen to her. The elevator came Bulma slammed her floor number. 

“Wanna stop by my place and have a cup of coffee hun? You’re already coming to my floor.”

Bulma rolled her eyes, but then tensed when she felt a hand on her elbow. Her eyes turned to the side and widened. 

“Cut it out idiot, you’re acting like a sex offender. And it’s not your place, it mine, and remember I am doing you a favor right now. Unless you want to fail your piano proficiency?” Vegeta ground out while pulling Rock Stars hand from Bulma’s body.

When they got to their floor, Bulma went straight to her apartment. She turned the key and glanced towards her neighbor. Vegeta pushed Rock Star through his front door and looked back at Bulma. He tilted his head as if to say something, and Bulma mouthed two words to him, _Thank you_ , before disappearing into her apartment.

####  **III  
_______________________________________________________________________ **

She kicked the man out quickly and left the shop in a hurry. The anger and self doubt welled in Bulma once again. She stumbled through the alleyways, searching for answers to that question of who and what she was. The man from earlier had brought memories and feelings back that were uncomfortable and foreign to her. It intrigued Bulma, but made her rage at the inconsistency of her own mental state.

Hands groped her backside, and Bulma turned to see a short fat man. His beady black eyes shone through the scruff of his shaggy hair. “What’s lady such as yourself doing out this late?” The man’s voice was gravelly and lilted of that of the uneducated. 

“Just uh… thinking.” Bulma postured. 

“Ah, you’re not looking for a date I suspect?”

Bulma wasn’t interested, until the tiny man began to talk. But the excitement began to bubble up in her. It was like a cup of coffee in front of the fire, a warm familiar feeling that welcomed Bulma back home. Bulma sized the man up, it would take several good cuts to get him in pieces small enough to dispose of properly. It would take maybe an hour and a half from start to finish, but it was still early enough for Bulma to get another under her belt and make it back to the shop and then home by her usual time. 

“Well, you _are_ kinda cute. What if I am interested?” Bulma backed against the wall and licked her lips. 

The pudgy man moved in and began to kiss her neck. His hands began to roam under her skirt. Bulma took a deep breath in, one hand laced into the man’s hair, and the other reached behind her back. With a moan, she ripped the man’s hair backwards which exposed his throat to her. In a flash, her free hand, now brandishing a silver knife, flew towards his neck.

Blood spurted from the wound and Bulma pulled the knife from side to side. She waited for that excitement to rush through her. The happiness she would experience when the blood flowed was something that was always welcome, the one thing she could count on always. But it wasn’t coming. 

She let go of the man, and he fell to the ground. His eyes were in a panic, and his mouth opened and shut. He was like a fish out of water, gaping for breath that wasn’t coming. But nothing came back to Bulma. Instead of the euphoria that would usually accompany the task of ridding the world of filth as this, Bulma felt again - nothing. 

No, not nothing per se… rage was her companion this night. Rage took over control of Bulma’s extremities. The knife slid into the man’s abdomen, cutting large gaping holes into his fatty flesh and spilling his entrails on the cobblestone. 

A clatter at the end of the alleyway brought Bulma back to her senses. She looked up to see a shadow dart away. 

Panic rose through Bulma. People knew her. She was the most famous face in the city, perhaps the country at this point. She couldn’t be caught here like this. She bolted in the opposite direction. Her feet slapped on the ground as she ran to the only place that she knew to go, the shop. It had always been a haven to her during her father’s life, and was central to her sanity after his death. A place she could be herself. A place she could work, or hide, or just be without eyes and questions. 

She made it to the door and slipped in. Her lungs stung with the effort she exerted. She changed her clothes, burning the ones she wore that night and began to wash her body. It was later than Bulma had realized as she noticed the skies in the distance lightening and purples and pinks streaking through the darkness. 

She put on fresh clothes, and took to the streets. She needed to get home at her usual time. She needed to keep up appearances. She needed to seem normal. That was her whole life after the death of her father. Appearing normal. Seeming like there was nothing wrong. It would be scandalous if the daughter of Dr. Briefs cracked. If only they knew the Bulma viewed everyone as walking victims. She would get as many of them as possible, all she needed was time. 

Bulma turned the corner and began to open her house door. 

“Bulma!” a voice chirped from next door. 

Bulma took a deep breath and plastered a smile on her face, “Cheech! Hey girl!” 

“There was a HOT MAN here looking for you late last night…. I didn’t know you had a gentleman caller!” ChiChi bit her lip and leaned in, “Now I know why you stay out so late every night.”

“Oh God” Bulma slapped her hand to her forehead. 

“What?! I don’t blame you, how do you think I landed a man like Goku?”

“Cheech, I am really tired. We will talk later, k?”

Bulma moved inside and before the door closed she heard her neighbor mumble, “I bet you are hussy.”

Undeterred, Bulma went to her bedroom. She leaned against her vanity and hung her head. It had been a trying night, one she wasn’t sure how to deal with. Her whole life had changed within an hour. She wasn’t sure she liked the development, but if she was honest with herself, her life had never changed in a way that left her better than before the change. 

She looked up at herself, she needed to look into her own eyes and remind herself who she was. When she looked up, all she saw was the blood that was streaked through her hair.

####  **IV  
_______________________________________________________________________ **

The tour was starting to get to Vegeta. Everyday was the same, wake up en route to the new location, read the news on his blackberry, write some, arrive at the venue, sound check, gig and then back on the bus. Many of the other acts liked to hang out in the green room before and after the show, but Vegeta didn’t indulge. While the loud brood of people laughed and created chaos in the venue, Vegeta could get some quiet time on the bus. Alone time was a rarity, and Vegeta relished in the luxury.

The tour was also getting to his physique, the man who spent as much time in the gym as he did writing, performing, or any other one action combined, was feeling the effects of not working out in his sluggish attempts to get up in the morning, or anything really. He began finding places to do basic bodyweight exercises on the bus, something that was not quite enough to keep up his physique, but was better than nothing. The biggest drawback to his impromptu gym schedule, was that idiot Kakarot would join him in burpees or squats or crunches whenever he saw Vegeta doing them. 

This night was different. The comics were on a rotating schedule for who opened the gig and Vegeta was so excited as he exited the stage. It was his night to open. Shit time to go on, but dammit if he wouldn’t have plenty of time alone in the bus tonight. 

A shock of blue passed him. “Good job tonight Vegeta,” she purred as she hopped onto the stage. She took a seat in a leather chair that was wheeled on stage just for her.

“Welcome, Welcome, Welcome! I’m Bulma Briefs! Just time for a quick recap of whats going on in the world! Lots happening, such as the fifty people running for president of this country” She gestured behind her as a picture of fifty people appeared. “Some of these are not actual politicians, but there are so many, you would have no idea which ones are real and which ones are just Japanese sex robots…. It’s these seven. You couldn’t even tell, cause there are too damn many people running for president!”

Vegeta smirked and turned to leave. The woman had begun to grow on him in the time spent stuck with her on the bus. She was constantly researching, and her whole persona was built around being this uber knowledgeable person in a plethora of different subjects. She would often use the material that was working well on tour for her weekly HBO special. So much of her time was spent in research, chatting with her team of writers, or simply reading. Vegeta found it soothing to be around her considering she knew when to shut the hell up. 

Except, when she didn’t know when to shut the hell up, that was. And he was painfully reminded of that when she poked her head into the living space of the bus a short while later.  
“Hey Mr. Grumpy!” Bulma stated as she plopped down on the couch. Her body was tiny but the force of her landing actually moved Vegeta up in the air a bit. “What in the seven hells do you want woman?” Vegeta said as he dropped his book. 

“Some light reading Vegeta?” Bulma chided as she noticed his book. 

“This is a New York Times Bestseller blue.”

“It looks dreadful… White Trash?”

“Nancy Isenberg is posing some really provocative thoughts in this book. If you could get off of you cell phone for five minutes and actually open a book, perhaps you would know that.”

“Oh excuse me genius, I read on my Kindle, which is a part of this genius device. And I, unlike you am not killing millions of trees each year.”

“What. Ever. At least I OWN this book. You are just leasing the privilege to read it.” 

“Yeah, and are you too stupid to remember the life lessons imparted in White Trash Vegeta?”

“Tch, someone such as yourself wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh yeah, Nancy and I had lunch just last month. I interviewed her for some of my research into class systems in America. I took notes on my phone.”

Vegeta reopened the book and found the page he was on, attempting to read. Although all he could see was he staring him down out of his periphery. “What in the name of jehovah do you want woman?”

“Jehovah, Vegeta really?” She laughed, “Anyway, we are playing here again tomorrow night, so several of us are going to a club down on the strip tonight. Wanna come?”

“I have no interest in Las Vegas. Have fun.”

“Well… I am gonna get changed, ChiChi, 18, Krillin and Goku have already dressed and are waiting for me so I should get ready. If you change your mind..”

“I won’t” Vegeta opened his book and began to read in earnest as she left the room. 

Nancy Isenberg was smart, Vegeta would give her that. The content of the book was fascinating, and made a lot of sense, but the book was dry, and he found his eyes closing of their own accord. They flew open as he heard footsteps coming towards the living area. 

Bulma poked her head in, her hair was slicked back, and she had shimmied into the tightest black dress Vegteta had ever seen. It was short, several inches above her knees and had a small slit up the thigh urging the eye further up her leg. The neckline was modest, but with the short skirt and how fucking tight the dress was, Vegeta was sure he was now intimately aware of all Bulma’s secrets. 

“You sure you don’t wanna come with me?” She bit her lip. She had plumped it with bright red and her white teeth pressed into the flesh. 

“Of course not Bulma. Have fun.”

She reached out and grabbed his phone. The damn thing had slid out of his pocket and was resting on the couch. She began feverishly typing on the device. 

“If you change your mind, here’s my number. You should get out and enjoy yourself some.” She winked and walked out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps you can guess who at least one more comedian is so far? 
> 
> Also thank you to those who are reading and reviewing! Each comment means so much to someone writing, so I truly appreciate each and every one!

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank ScarletRaven1001 and Blacksheep115 for being awesome and helping me formulate my ideas. You two are awesome people and I am so thankful for your friendships. 
> 
> I had no Beta for this fic so all the mistakes were my own. 
> 
> Leave me a comment and let me know what you thought!


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